Year Of Awesome

5k run. 18 mile bike ride. Another 5k run. 88 degrees. 2 hours, 1 minute 12 seconds. 52 out 79 competitors. This is the sum of my first duathlon. A success would have been to simply complete the race but, while I had hoped to finish in under 2 minutes, overall I’m very pleased with the outcome. Putting it in perspective of not doing anything athletic for the first 40 years of my life I can hold my head high with 52nd.

But if I can’t use that as an excuse then perhaps I’m one of those people just not cut out for athletic endeavors. After all, I come from a long line of people that are anything but active – much less athletes. And after today, I’m more inclined to believe I don’t belong in races. People have been telling me how I’m going to get addicted to doing triathlons. Apparently, they’re like Lay’s Potato Chips. But when I was done with the race today, I was done with racing. I could not imagine doing a triathlon. My wife and I overheard people talking about how great they felt, and already making plans for the next race. I was experiencing no runner’s high or rush of adrenalin or even mild sense of well-being. I just wanted to lie down and enter a coma. Which I came close to after a large helping of fajitas at La Rosa. But even upon awakening, my legs felt horrible and my head foggy. And I’ve been preparing for this since January. In fact, this isn’t even the farthest distance I’ve gone. Nick and Jessica and I had a 28 mile ride followed by a 5 mile run a couple weeks ago. And to be honest I felt a lot better after that than I did today but that may be due to the heat.

It wasn’t all whoa is me. I had my moments. Though I started the race (purposely) in the back half of the pack I did my fair share of moving up the ranks and never got passed myself. I had run the course the night before so I knew what to expect when. Once on the bike, I was more in my element and got into a nice pace fairly quickly. I did get passed twice early on but they both looked quite fresh so it’s my assumption they were part of teams and were only doing the bike leg. The rest of the ride I made up a ton of distance against those faster runners in front of me. I ended up overtaking about eight riders before the turn around point and then another 3 on the way back which was 90% downhill. I was being very careful to hydrate the entire ride (something I’m not usually good at) so by the time I got back to the transition point I felt a little less weary of the second run – legs were tired but lungs felt ok. But once I started the run I really notice all the liquid I had been taking in and was a bit sloshy for the first 10 minutes. It was making a bit sick and that, on temp approaching 90, I was finding myself walking every half mile. That dissolved all my hard work on the bike and I found myself back again with many of the runners I started with, including the guy in his late 70s I crossed the start and the finish line next to. The next few minutes were spent nuzzling the grassy knoll were my family had sent up camp – as if I had just been on a plane ride from hell and grateful to be back on solid ground.

That was my day. As the hours pass and I get more removed from the pain I could easily be talked back into thinking I can do the triathlon with ease. But now I know the truth. It’s not going to be easy. It may not even be smart, considering my 40 years of sloth. And while the past 5 months have been life changing and I do feel stronger and healthy than I’ve ever felt in my life. And I do, dare I say, crave my workouts now, I still don’t love this lifestyle. I’m not addicted. This could easily be my last race. I would have no problem with that. Fun to me is searching the internets while sippin’ on a half cherry, half cola Slurpee.

I will not gain the weight back. That is for certain. Being healthy is good. And it’s what has driven me to do this – for my family. But have I gone to the other extreme. And if so, how healthy is that? I have to honestly consider that somewhere in between is better for the future of my family.

Chatting with Valerie's friend Claira before the race.

Me and the old guy after the gun. This pic could have easily been taken at the finish line - except of course for the look of death on my face.

Back from the first 5k.

The transition to the bike leg went very smooth for my first ever transition.

Back for the second 5k.

The last quarter mile.

The last 20 feet.

In the immortal words of Deana Carter: "Did I shave my legs for this?"

My 3 fantastic reasons for all this punishment.